Reekie Linn: Discovering magical falls in Angus on hidden paths

I’ve got twigs in my hair and I’ve been stung by nettles and pricked by thistles. I’m covered in sticky willies.

But, as I gaze up at the crashing waterfall, and across to the black mouth of the cave, I feel a great surge of exhilaration.

I’ve scrambled down to the plunge pool below Reekie Linn via a network of hidden paths on the south side of the river.

I won’t lie – it wasn’t easy. And in wet weather I imagine the route would be extremely perilous.

The base of Reekie Linn waterfalls - from the south side of the River Isla. Image: Gayle Ritchie. — The base of Reekie Linn waterfalls – from the south side of the River Isla. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

Of course, being one of the most spectacular waterfalls in Scotland, and arguably the most iconic in Angus, there are easier ways to take in their majesty – along a tourist-friendly path on the north side of the water.

But me being me, I was keen to check out the more adventurous route, and really get to the heart of the place.

Tourist trail

Parking up at Bridge of Craigisla, I first made my way along the well-walked tourist trail, following the north bank of the River Isla to a vertigo-inducing cliff-top viewpoint.

I passed quite a few people, all gazing in wonder at the falls as they cascaded through the deep, tree-lined gorge, spraying the air with a fine mist.

It takes about 10 minutes to reach the lookout point, a rocky outcrop some 45m above the falls. Here, you’re treated to an incredible view of nature doing its thing.

View of Reekie Linn from the north side of the water. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

The drop is pretty scary – selfie takers, beware!

So what of the name, Reekie Linn? Reekie roughly translates as “smoky”, or “misty”, and Linn means a deep, or dark, pool.

And Reekie Linn is actually a pair of linked falls, with the upper dropping 6m, and the lower dropping 18m.

When the river is in spate, the two falls merge to create a single drop of 24m, sending up a smoky mist.

The force is so great that the plunge pool beneath the falls has apparently been gouged to a depth of 36m.

The grass is always greener….

As I peered down into the canyon, I spotted a group of people on the other side of the river and was curious to follow in their footsteps.

Returning to the car park, I turned left, crossed the bridge and walked along the B954 for about five minutes.

There's a lovely sandy beach beneath the Bridge of Craigisla, as Gayle discovers. Image: Gayle Ritchie. — There’s a lovely sandy beach beneath the Bridge of Craigisla, as Gayle discovers. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

I had a loose idea where I was going but as luck would have it, I bumped into the group of folk I’d spotted on their way back up.

They were kind enough to put me in the right direction, and off I headed, through a gate in a wall, along a country lane, and into thick woodland.

There used to be a metal signpost here, somewhere, indicating an alternative route to Reekie Linn – there possibly still is – but I don’t see it.

And it didn’t look as if that many people had been this way for quite some time.

The adventurous alternative

I took a series of paths running through trees and overgrown rhododendron, soon hearing the thundering falls below.

Still, I struggled to work out how to get down to the base, and after various wrong turns, battles with nettles, thistles and sticky willies, I spotted a route that didn’t involve abseiling down cliffs. I reckoned I could make it without being hospitalised.

The deep gorge carved into River Isla. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

Ducking under branches and sliding on my backside, it was a pretty hair-raising experience.

I eventually arrived at the riverbank, and paused a while to drink in the stunning beauty of the place, unsullied by mass visitors.

Heading left towards the falls involved clambering over fallen trees, moss-covered rocks, and doing my best to avoid slipping in mud.

River Isla and woodlands at Reekie Linn. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

It wasn’t long before I reached the impressive chute of white water, and I marvelled at the way it descended into the plunge pool below while considering going for a dip.

The devil in disguise

Looking across to my left, I spotted the gaping black mouth of a cave, Black Dub, and perched on a cliff above it, a creepy looking stone hut.

Local legend says that an outlaw once hid in the cave until one night the devil appeared before him in the shape of a huge black dog.

He was said to be so terrified that he turned himself in the very next day!

Reekie Linn: Gayle checks out the base of the falls, and the cave where the devil was said to have appeared in the form of a huge black dog. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

Getting to the cave may be possible but I was slightly freaked out at the idea.

I did consider changing into my swimming gear and giving it a bash but as I was about to do so, the sky blackened and the heavens opened.

Might that have been a sign from the devil himself…?

Reekie Linn footpath sign. — The old metal signpost to Reekie Linn – but Gayle failed to find it. Image: Supplied.

I also fancied checking out the hut, but again, reaching it looked like it might be somewhat risky.

Whether it’s a folly, a generator shed, or an old water pump house, I’m not sure, but it’s rather an enchanting feature.

With the rain coming down in sheets, I decided to make my way back. I’d have liked to explore further but I’ll save that adventure for the next sunny day.

Dangerous routes

It’s worth pointing out that both routes – on the north and south side of the river – are extremely dangerous, with signs on the tourist trail warning of sheer drops.

Signs warn of the dangers at Reekie Linn.

There’s nothing to stop you plunging to your doom should you stumble, so please take great care. Any dogs should most definitely be on leads.

The Victorians first put Reekie Linn on the tourist map and it’s been popular with visitors ever since. There’s even a country dance named after the waterfall.